


Comin’ to You

by Salimah



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chicago, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Prison, Awesome Peggy Carter, BAMF Natasha Romanov, I'm not sure in which historical period this fic is written on, Inspired by Chicago, It can be read as both in modern time as in the time of the movie, Mentions of Murder, Most of the women listed up are imprisioned, Most of them for murder, Multi, Period-Typical Sexism, There isn't a particular pairing in this fic for now, and I know I will, bc we girls ain't scared of blood, but if I do a second chapter, maybe it will be PeggyxReader or BuckyxReader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salimah/pseuds/Salimah
Summary: You killed without mercy your husband the night of your aniversary, or that’s what the papers said the morning you were interned in the prision of the city. There is a lot of people that want to meet you there.





	Comin’ to You

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @brightlycoloredteacups‘s Theme of the Week on Tumblr. If you may, go and send her some prompts! Her writing is amazing. This is heavingly inspired in Chicago’s song, The Cell Block Tango. I saw the movie a while ago and this idea popped in my mind, and this is the perfect opportunity to write it.
> 
> Might or might not write a part two, who knows?
> 
> I think is painfully obvious that english isn’t my first language, so if you see any mistakes in the narration is because of that. Please let me know what do you think!

You fought to keep up with Director Hill, running after her. You did everything possible to listen carefully to what she was saying, but the environment around you stole your attention easily. She wasn’t having any of that, however.

“Pay attention, girl. You need to know what awaits you, otherwise you won’t last long here.”

You forced yourself to hide your nerves and nodded quickly, rushing to keep close to her. The men behind the bars that kept them out of the corridor lit up when they saw you go by, shouting obscenities and hitting the bars of their cells.

Disgusting.

Principal Hill nodded to a security guard when she approached him, “Barton.”

Barton returned the greeting and opened the reinforced metal grate that separated the prison into two sections; the male pavilion, and the female one. Barton looked you up and down with a frown.

“Another revengeful wife? Hell, you’d think that after the fifth murder the husbands would start behaving. I guess they don’t.” His comment put your nerves on alert, but before you could defend yourself, Director Hill intervened.

“Clint, please. You only encourage her. Tell Barnes that we are going to his sector. I do ’t want him to get paranoid again.”

Barton hid his smile and nodded again, looking straight ahead and yelling at a prisoner to shut the hell up. Director Hill stepped forward, guiding you down a hall exactly like the one you had just crossed. But this time there were less threatening faces than before. You knew you should not trust appearances, though.

A young blonde was leaning against a column, a cigarette in her hand and the grate behind her wide open. She looked up when she saw Hill approaching. Her lips spread in a surprisingly dazzling smile.

“Director, what a pleasure it is to see you here so soon.” Her eyes lingered on you, examining your figure under the gray uniform that you got when you arrived that morning. Her look made you feel naked.

“Sharon, you are incorrigible. Go back to your cell and leave that damn thing.” The softness in Hill’s voice surprised you. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, the new prisoner. I hope you treat her with nothing but respect, is that clear?”

Sharon took another puff on her cigarette and let out the smoke slowly, ignoring her guard’s scolding. A flirtatious smile adorned her lips. “It will be a pleasure to have you here, Y/N.”

You tried to prevent the chill that went up your back from becoming evident, but Sharon’s predatory gaze made it difficult for you. You looked away.

“Spread the word.” Hill gave the blonde one last warning glance before pushing you forward. “Get moving. I have a lot to show you.”

You continued walking down the hall a few steps behind the Director Hill, watching as the prisoners went out and entered their cells with a freedom that you hadn’t seen in the men’s section. You assumed that it was something like a mandatory rule between the genres; Wherever they are, women always have more self control than men, and it shows.

You thought fleetingly of Richard, your beloved husband. The adrenaline of last night’s fight still ran through your veins, and the mental image of Richard falling down the stairs in slow motion would be etched in your mind forever. You shook your head and tried to ignore the feeling of satisfaction that arisen in you. Murder wasn’t something you had ever considered yourself capable of.

Director Hill went up some metal stairs and you followed her without hesitation. The second floor was much more open than the one below, a few empty cells while others were occupied by one or more prisoners. A redheaded woman with short hair was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, playing chess with another woman with dark skin and a face so hostile as the one of Officer Wilson, who had arrested you the night before.

“Romanoff, Whoberi, listen to me.” Both women watched you arrive accompanied by Hill, taking a moment to confirm your presence before returning their gaze to Hill. “This is your new partner, Y/N Y/L/N. Her cell will be the 231, and I hope you behave like the ladies I know you are.”

The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow at the comment, but quickly swept her eyes over you. The other woman stared at your immobile figure, drinking every detail of you. You wondered how impressively attractive people were in prison, and how they kept it that way. You had hardly spent a night away from home and you felt like a walking disaster.

You were reprimanding yourself for your not-so-appropriate thoughts when the threatening looking woman spoke, looking directly at you.

“My name is Gamora. Stick with my things and you will lose your hand, is that clear?”

Hill rolled her eyes at the same time the redheaded woman laughed loudly. You kept your expression blank when you answered.

“Clear as water.”

The redheaded woman moved a piece of the board casually, ignoring your presence suddenly. She hadn’t even introduced herself, but you weren’t naive enough to expect it. “When will you join me to play, Maria? I’ve missed you around here.”

Director Hill made a move forward, hitting you lightly on the back of the neck. “As soon as Rogers stops sending me street rats to attend to, I’ll come and kick your ass on that board.” The sound of District Attorney Steve Rogers’ name made your stomach churn. The man had sent you to prison in custody until your trial, which didn’t even have a date yet, without even hearing a word of what you had to say. You wanted to hit him in the face, even if you had never seen him in your life.

You thought you heard some laughter from the women behind you as you walked away from them, but the idea sounded a bit strange in your head. You had imagined many things about the prison the night before, lying on the hard mattress of the jail cell in the city. You were sure that things would be much worse than they had been until now.

Director Hill led you through several more corridors, introducing you to some security guards and other prisoners, leaving you with a not very sincere warning of not to mess with you. You found it hard to believe that Hill cared at the least about what happened to you.

Finally she stopped in another corridor of cells. A few prisoners were sitting at the tables scattered in the room, playing pulses, chess or simply smoking in silence. A man was standing in a corner of the room, watching all the prisoners with threatening attention. His uniform security guard did nothing to convey the confidence and security that an officer would usually do.

Hill led you to a lonely table in the corner of the room. A brunette woman sat alone there, a cigarette in her hand and a sloppy book in the other. She looked up when she heard Hill’s footsteps. Her eyes fell on the director of the prison before stopping at you, a brightness that you didn’t knew how to identify shining in her eyes.

Hill pushed you in the woman’s direction when you were close enough. You frowned at her at the push, but you didn’t say anything. You were used to keeping quiet when you were mistreated. “Carter, this is Y/N Y/L/N, the new prisoner.” You could hear the annoyance in her voice. She was tired of introducing you and you could feel her hurry to leave and go and finish her own affairs.

The light from the window illuminated Carter’s brown eyes, and with them her excitement, “Are you the woman who pushed her husband down the stairs because he didn’t bring you roses on your anniversary?”

You bit your lip to stop the groan of frustration that threatened to come out. You had heard the same version of that story so many times in the last few hours, you were tired of it.

“He was balls deeps into his secretary, in our bed, the day of our anniversary. I don’t even pushed him that hard. It’s not my fault he was a damn feather without balance.”

Carter’s delighted laughter spread throughout the room, attracting a few glances. Carter didn’t care, giving her cigarette another puff.

“I like you, girl. Take a seat. If Hill brought you with me she must be tired of you.” You gave the director a quick glance, who shrugged without denying the accusation. “I’m Peggy Carter, the one they call the boss of the female pavilion.”

Hill gave you one last squeeze on the shoulder before leaving from where she came, nodding at the guard on the corner. The man watched her leave before putting her eyes on you. His ice-cold gaze made you want to look away, but you found yourself looking back for several seconds.

Peggy put her book on the table and took another puff on her cigarette, letting out the smoke on your face. You inhaled the smoke almost immediately, feeling like you should get used to such a treatment from now on.

“Don’t look at him too much. He can get fond of you.” Her accent make her words slid from her lips with a softness you hadn’t heard in a long time.

Her statement made you take your eyes off the guard. “What do you mean?”

Peggy shrugged, “Bucky is a complicated man, and if I’m honest, I haven’t quite understood him yet. But my advice is that you stay out of his way. For all I know, he might as well be a prisoner here and not a guard.”

You forced yourself not to look at the man again. You could still feel his eyes on you, burning holes in your back with his intense gaze. A chill ran down your back.

“I have no idea where my cell is.”

Peggy clicked her tongue and squinted. “You’re going to make me give you a tour, don'’t you?” You opened your mouth to answer her but she kept going, “It doesn’t matter, my ass hurts to be here. C’mon, I’ll show you where you’ll spend the rest of your days masturbating in the dark.”

Her vulgar language took you unexpectedly. You weren’t a prude, but you weren’t used to hearing such things so casually, much less from a woman’s mouth. Memories of the times you looked a little more than necessary at the beautiful women your husband frequented came to your head. You mentally reprimanded yourself for such a thought.

Peggy took her book and stubbed out her cigarette under the tip of her shoe. Like almost all the women you had met today, Peggy looked incredibly good to be in prison. Her gray uniform hung from her body like a sack and she still managed to look gorgeous. You were wondering if you would learn to do that after a while there.

Unlike the director Hill, Peggy walked by your side as if there was no place in the world where she would like to be more than in that one. The corridors of the prison were gray and sterile, strangely clean. Some women nodded to greet Peggy when they saw her go by, but none of them spoke to her.

You and Peggy passed by the side of a closed cell, the light inside it off. You could see the figure of a woman huddled on the bed, clinging to herself and covering herself with a blanket. You could see her gray eyes like a storm looking at you under a layer of tears before covering her face with the blanket and blocking your view completely.

Peggy hummed softly. “That’s Wanda Maximoff. A tragedy, really. The poor thing hasn’t said anything coherent since she arrived here two months ago, and nobody has bothered to bring a translator to explain to us why she was that covered in blood in the house of a dead pimp. We tried to help her, but you only can save one who wants to be saved. Let’s keep walking, we’re close.”

You stared a few seconds longer at the darkened figure of Wanda Maximoff before following Peggy down the hall. A bitter feeling grew in the pit of your stomach.

Peggy finally stopped in front of an empty cell except for a bed and a toilet in the corner. It was just as gray and cold as the rest of the prison.

“Home, sweet home.” Peggy smiled. “I imagine you must be tired of being dragged from one place to another all day. I’ll leave you to rest.” A prison guard approached and opened the grate, the metal grinding painfully when it opened.

You had barely stepped inside your cell when the officer Barton appeared next to Peggy.

“Your lawyer is here, sweetheart. He’s waiting for you in the meeting room.” Clint gave you a quick glance and then one to Peggy. Peggy raised an eyebrow in his direction. Clint nibbled on his lip, shifted his weight and walked away briskly. Peggy watched him the whole way until he disappeared from sight.

Peggy let out a sigh, “I guess I should take you to the meeting room. Follow me.”

You followed her through a labyrinth of corridors with little talk to entertain you before finally stopping in front of a wooden door, the first door you had seen all day that was not reinforced or out of metal. Peggy gave you a handshake before leaning down and whispering in your ear.

“Good luck in your stay here, doll. I hope you survive until your trial.” Her candy-sweet voice warmed your blood, making your knees shake and your breath catch in your throat.

Peggy turned away from you, and, with one last innocent smile, turned around and walked back the way she came.

You took several deep breaths to calm yourself before opening the wooden door and entering the meeting room.

It was much more colorful than the rest of the prison, although it had no windows and was noticeably small. A wooden table and a few chairs were the only furniture in the room, and a man in an elegant black suit was sitting behind the table. A smile spread over his face when he saw you enter.

“Finally! The lady everyone is talking about. You sure caused a ruckus last night, huh? Luckily for you I’m here to help you with that.”

You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. The man sighed and took off his glasses, looking at you expectantly.

“I didn’t ask for a lawyer.” You managed to mumble. “And I can’t pay you. I don’t have any money.”

The man smiled, “Don’t worry about that now. I just need you to sit down and tell me everything that happened last night, okay?”

You closed the door behind you slowly, without taking your eyes off your lawyer. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Oh, yes. How rude of me. Let me introduce myself.” The man stood up shaking his head as if he felt ashamed of his actions. “Tony Stark, defense attorney. Now that the presentations are done, would you mind taking a seat? We have a lot to discuss, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are deeply welcomed!


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